New Beginnings [Open]
Characters: Edgeworth and the crew of the Convoy
Content: Now on the run from Bradley, Edgeworth decides to get acquainted with his new home
Setting: The Convoy
Time: Before the Convoy finds out where the satyr's victims are being held
Warnings: Potential mentions of violence or body mutilation
Edgeworth took a deep breath and walked through the corridors of the Convoy. He couldn't avoid the crew forever - and he shouldn't, either. According to Iroh, this was a safe ship. He could trust his word. There was nothing to be concerned about. However, there was a tension in his skin, a tightness in his breath, and a rolling wave of nausea that could not be calmed. Despite all logic or reason, he could not shake the feeling that things were about to get worse.
There was no time for this sort of nonsense, he told himself. While he may not have had much at the moment, he still had his dignity to maintain. His posture was straight, his pace was brisk, and his head was held high. This sort of pride would be familiar to those who knew him; other than that, he looked markedly different than before.
First, the most striking feature was that of his left arm...or rather, his lack thereof. His entire forearm was now missing, and the sleeve of his gray trenchcoat was pinned up to his elbow. It was cold evidence of the parting gift Bradley had left him months ago. Second, his attire was much simpler than before. There were no frills, no cravats, and no bright, bold reds. Instead, the clothes underneath his jacket were simple things, without much in the way of buttons and fasteners, in dull, neutral shades meant not to attract any attention. The only detail of any note was the fedora he wore upon his head. While it was hardly an effective disguise, he mused to himself on how a few simple details could so drastically change people's initial impressions.
His apprehension temporarily forgotten, he thought about what he needed to do next. He had all ready given his papers to the first mate and had dropped off his small, light luggage in what would be his quarters. Now, two things were left. First, he needed to make arrangements about his work; he would not sit on this ship idle. Second, as loathe as he was to admit it, he needed to see the ship medics. As much as he disliked meeting with doctors, it was prudent for them to be aware of his ...condition.
Other than that? He had no idea. Edgeworth disliked that more than anything.
Content: Now on the run from Bradley, Edgeworth decides to get acquainted with his new home
Setting: The Convoy
Time: Before the Convoy finds out where the satyr's victims are being held
Warnings: Potential mentions of violence or body mutilation
Edgeworth took a deep breath and walked through the corridors of the Convoy. He couldn't avoid the crew forever - and he shouldn't, either. According to Iroh, this was a safe ship. He could trust his word. There was nothing to be concerned about. However, there was a tension in his skin, a tightness in his breath, and a rolling wave of nausea that could not be calmed. Despite all logic or reason, he could not shake the feeling that things were about to get worse.
There was no time for this sort of nonsense, he told himself. While he may not have had much at the moment, he still had his dignity to maintain. His posture was straight, his pace was brisk, and his head was held high. This sort of pride would be familiar to those who knew him; other than that, he looked markedly different than before.
First, the most striking feature was that of his left arm...or rather, his lack thereof. His entire forearm was now missing, and the sleeve of his gray trenchcoat was pinned up to his elbow. It was cold evidence of the parting gift Bradley had left him months ago. Second, his attire was much simpler than before. There were no frills, no cravats, and no bright, bold reds. Instead, the clothes underneath his jacket were simple things, without much in the way of buttons and fasteners, in dull, neutral shades meant not to attract any attention. The only detail of any note was the fedora he wore upon his head. While it was hardly an effective disguise, he mused to himself on how a few simple details could so drastically change people's initial impressions.
His apprehension temporarily forgotten, he thought about what he needed to do next. He had all ready given his papers to the first mate and had dropped off his small, light luggage in what would be his quarters. Now, two things were left. First, he needed to make arrangements about his work; he would not sit on this ship idle. Second, as loathe as he was to admit it, he needed to see the ship medics. As much as he disliked meeting with doctors, it was prudent for them to be aware of his ...condition.
Other than that? He had no idea. Edgeworth disliked that more than anything.